Sincerity 

is a mind without wandering thoughts.

Dictionaries define sincerity with words like “genuine” and “honest.” Let’s apply these to a teacher with a disinterested student. She genuinely wants to help him appreciate the day’s lesson. Now let’s add a Buddhist aspect, defining sincerity as the sharply focused mind, the mind free of wandering thoughts. Our teacher now not only genuinely wants to help the student; she single-mindedly focuses on helping him. Her mind does not wander off to her weekly yoga class or tomorrow’s exam. By concentrating, she brings together her energy, experience, and mental acuity. Her mind does not distractedly flit from idea to idea, almost devising a way to help only to have it slip away as serendipitously as it came. She is better able to recall earlier problems he had and past conversations and methods she used to inspire him to become more excited and try harder. Such is the power of a sincere mind without wandering thoughts. 

We do the right thing 

not because we expect to change the world, 

but because it’s the right thing to do. 

Let’s face it; few of us have the position or power to sway others. But that’s all right because the absence of power cannot only help free us from egoistic expectations; it can also save us from karmic retributions incurred from improperly wielding it. How much less fraught with adverse retributions, and easier it will be, to decide we’ll do something just because it’s the right thing to do. No one need even know. We can focus on implementing our plans without wasting energy worrying about others’ reactions. Our happiness, our feeling of accomplishment, will come entirely from doing the right thing. If others notice what we did and change for the better, excellent. If no one notices, excellent. We will have successfully reinforced our natural desire to do what is proper—not because we harbor unrealistic hopes—but for the pure joy of doing the right thing.

“Sentient beings are innumerable;

I vow to help them all.”

Having embraced this vow, how much of our day is spent fulfilling it? And how much is spent working, studying, eating, sleeping, socializing and relaxing, or frittering time away in front of a TV and on the Internet? Little wonder that while we remain in samsara, at the most, all we can manage is helping a few individuals to ease their current suffering. Despite good intentions, our help turns out to be as useful as sticking a bandage on a hemorrhaging wound. Plus, in their next lifetime, we won’t be around to apply another bandage as karmic wounds reopen and the suffering resumes. But as soon as we got to the Pure Land, we’ll begin energetically, skillfully, unceasingly helping beings. How? By teaching the way to heal—to permanently suture—the wound as we show all beings how to end their endless rebirths. They will then liberate themselves from the cycle of rebirth. Forever. This is how we help all beings.

Forgiveness is not just for major wrongs.

We often think of forgiveness in terms of major misdeeds. After all, forgiving is hard to pull off. Surely, it requires a serious reason. But if we save forgiveness just for major wrongs, we lose a vital cultivation tool. We need to forgive on a regular, not occasional, basis, because it is the everyday slights, not the major misdeeds that we keep running into. When others impugn us; mistreat us; inconvenience, irritate, or just plain bother us, we need to forgive. Then stop thinking of the person, and get on with our life. How do you forgive and forget, and why bother? Understanding causality, we realize that what was just done to us was the natural result of a karmic deed. And we remember that just as we want to alleviate our suffering we should also wish to alleviate the suffering of the other person. Together, we have been fueling the flames of our shared anger like two people anxiously fanning a smoldering fire. When we forgive another person, the fire is doused. 

Words have the power to destroy.

They can be the knife that slices,

the gun that shatters,

the club that smashes.

With alarming ease, hurtful words can stream out of our mouths as unrestricted as a flood-swollen river crashing through a dam. And just as everything in the way of a raging river is laid to waste, those stricken by our verbal onslaught can end up dazed, wondering what just happened. Having spoken harsh words, we may find the courage to apologize. If we are fortunate, the other person will forgive us. While forgiveness lets us off the hook temporarily, we may still have to endure future karmic consequences. But worse, we will have broken the fundamental precept of “Do no harm.” Instead of giving fearlessness, we will have given fear. All because we have, yet again, given in to impatience and intolerance. This cannot continue. We need to slow down, realize the harm we are doing, and develop patience. We need “Amituofo.”